Never Again
by Schizosmurf
Summary: A hostage situation that involves two of the agents. Character death and some language. And I know, I'm bad at writing summaries.


_A/N: First of all, I know that my English is bad, and please, if you find any mistakes, I would be grateful if you could point them out to me. But, the good thing is, I have an excuse formy English. I'm from Sweden. Not that you care, but still. It's an excuse._

_And now to the story. It's a one-shot and it involves character death and some language. It could be D/M if you want it to. It's up to your imagination. And it's probably very predictable, but hopefully, you'll like it anyway. AND REVIEWS MAKE MY DAY. Even the bad ones. Wohoo! Oh, and Italics are Danny's thoughts._

There Are No Happy Endings

He should have known. The moment that he saw the missing person, Ralph Anderson, holding a gun to Martin's head, he should've known. But he stayed positive, because Ralph might not have been as fragile as he looked, and Danny might have been able to talk him out of it. It had worked so many times before, but right now, the moment Danny needed it to work, it didn't. Because Ralph didn't only look fragile; he was fragile. And Danny didn't really blame him. He knew how it felt to lose someone. The difference between Danny and Ralph, though, was that Danny would **never **hold a gun to an innocent person's head. Ever.

"Ralph, I know how it feels. I know how it feels to lose someone. But I promise you, shooting an innocent person, an FBI agent, is not going to make it better. Do you understand me, Ralph," Danny said, tears starting to fill his eyes, as he was at looking the man who held a gun to Martin's head. Ralph frowned, and Danny immediately regretted his words. _Shit._

"So, you're saying that you know how it feels to watch the one you love getting beaten and raped while you sit there with tied feet and hands, without any possibility to do anything to stop it? Because even though you're begging the person to stop, he doesn't. He's just laughing at you. And when it's over, you have to sit there with your wife's dead body for four hours, because the neighbours didn't think it was "that bad". And look at me now. Look at the person I've become. My life is over. You have no **idea **how it feels.," Ralph started shaking, and Danny knew from experience that a shaking, hysterical person with a gun, was bad. Really bad.

"I'm sorry, Ralph. I shouldn't have said that. But you know what? The guy's head you're pointing that gun at, is my best friend's. And if you pull that trigger, my best friend is going to die. I love him, Ralph, even if I don't say it out loud all the time. I really do. He has family and friends, who love him too, and I know that you don't want to do this to them. He's innocent, Ralph. He wasn't the one who killed your wife, so why kill him, and hurt everyone who loves him,"

Danny finally managed to look at Martin, and he was devastated when he saw the look on his face. Because Martin's expression wasn't panic or fear. It was complete emptiness. Almost like he knew that there was no way he was going to get out of this alive. And it broke Danny's heart even more when he saw that Martin was crying. _God, where is Jack, _he thought as he stood there waiting for a reaction from Ralph.

"Does it look like I care? It's over." Ralph yelled hysterically. He was crying and shaking violently, and Danny caught the slight movement of his finger and Martin closing his eyes, whispering something, but didn't have the time to react. He heard two loud bangs, and the next thing he saw was blood splatteringon the ground and Martin's body falling on the asphalt with a soft thud. Danny started to run towards Martin, but froze when he saw that Ralph was still standing up - crying.

"Ralph, put the gun down. Please!", he whispered, his voice barely audible. He was blinded by tears, but he did see when Ralph took the gun to his own head and pulled the trigger. And he just stood there for a second or two, staring at the two bodies laying on the ground, one of which belonged to Martin. But Danny couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that he was now walking towards Martin's **dead** body. When he slowly sat down next to the body, he felt sick. Because **it was** Martin, and _ohgodtherewassomuchblood. _So, he stood up, and stumbled to the wall, leaning against it to avoidfrom falling. And he threw up on his shoes. _Oh, damn, not the new ones_, he thought to himself as he looked down on the black shoes, that were now stained with vomit. Then he remembered. Martin was laying next to him, and he cursed himself for thinking about shoes. He sat down and placed Martin's cold hand in his.

"Fitzie, s-sorry, I'm s-so sorr-ry," he stuttered while crying and looking down at Martin's pale face. He looked dead. And ironically, that's exactly what he was. Danny wanted to hit something, he wanted to scream and curse, and most of all, he wanted to hurt Ralph. But it was too late for that, as well. He sat there with his dead friend for about 6 minutes, talking to him, but then he heard the sirens coming. The sirens that should have come 27 minutes ago. They didn't need any ambulances or policemen now. The ones that had needed help died 9 minutes ago. That was when he stopped believing in happy endings. 9 minutes and 42 seconds ago. And Danny felt deep down, that he was never going to believe in them again. Because, now, he **really** knew how Ralph had felt when his wife died.

The End


End file.
